The Unwilling Heir
by PadawanMage
Summary: What if Harry Potter didn't fully defeat Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets? (Alternate Universe)


**Title: "**The Unwilling Heir"

**Time Period/Spoilers: **(Alternate Universe) Post - Chamber of Secrets

**Rating: **PG-13 (Disturbing Images)

**Summary: **What if Harry didn't fully defeat Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets?

**Author's Notes: **I know there have been a few of fics out there with Riddle surviving, but I wanted to write it from an angle of horror. Needless to say, this is not a nice fic.

* * *

"The Unwilling Heir"

Harry grabbed the Sword of Gryffindor with both hands and threw his weight behind it. The basilisk lunged forward and impaled itself on it, driving the hilt almost to the roof of its own mouth. Warm slick blood spurted out, drenching Harry's arms. The monster serpent reared back its head, hissing and roaring in agony and Harry gasped as something razor sharp sliced up his arm.

The sword slipping from his blood-caked hands, Harry stumbled back and slammed into a wall. The basilisk, near death, snapped its jaws here and there. It suddenly lunged at the sound of unearthly music coming from nearby...

...and clamped its jaws down at the source.

A single high-pitched off-key screech echoed all across the chamber.

Harry clasped his hands to his ears, the sound setting his teeth chattering. The basilisk ground its teeth on the dead form of Fawkes, feathers flying everywhere, then snapped its head one last time, throwing the body to a nearby wall. It promptly burst into flame, scorching the rock. With a final groan, the King of the Serpents slumped forward, twitching, to the floor.

Harry collapsed to the floor, staring at the scorched remains of the phoenix.

Searing pain burned in his arm, and Harry looked over to see a single poisonous fang impaled just above his elbow. Gripping it with his other hand he wrenched it out. Even before the fang slipped from his fingers, coldness seeped from the wound and slowly worked its way up his arm. He swallowed as his robes began to soak with his blood, his vision going foggy.

"You're dead, Harry Potter," said a cold, hard voice above him.

Harry looked up, seeing Tom Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin, looking down at him. Neither looked triumphant nor gloating, Riddle simply looked down at the dying boy with a calm, detached air.

He looked away, past Riddle's shadow and his eyes widened at the crumpled form lying on the wet ground near the massive statue of Salazar Slytherin.

_Ginny._

Riddle turned to look over his shoulder. He smiled, but his eyes held no humor.

"Not to worry, Harry. I'll take good care of her - since obviously you could not." He then turned and slowly walked towards her.

Harry's vision turned foggy and he had to blink as the forms of Riddle and Ginny blurred and overlapped one another. The first tendrils of the poison touched his heart and he gasped. Shaking his head slightly, he stopped when he became dimly surprised at what he saw:

Sitting there, fully animated, and looking dispassionately at Harry, was the Sorting Hat. His hand twitched as though looking for help from it, but the hat shook its head.

"Some memories are harder to get rid of than others, Potter," it said quietly.

Harry could only stare back in confusion as his vision tunneled, his breathing stopped and then everything went black.

---

Gasping, Harry lurched forward in his bed, his heart hammering incessantly in his chest. His eyes darted here and there, taking in his four-poster bed, the drapes pulled all around, and the darkness surrounding him. A clammy hand went his chest as he tried to steady the rhythm of his breath, as well as his heart. Within a few moments, Harry gave a shuddering breath and covered his head with his hands.

Beyond the drapes he could hear the snores of several of the other students, including that of Neville Longbottom, who seemed to outdo himself by snoring the loudest. Harry smiled weakly at that. After a moment, pulled his legs up to his chest and folded his arms across his eyes, his mind drifting to the events of the past several days.

With the exemption of all students from end of term exams (much to Hermione's chagrin), all students had been celebrating mostly every night (much to Professor McGonagall's chagrin). Fred and George Weasley had risen to the occasion and came back every night with booty from the kitchens.

Harry, however, wasn't in the partying mood after that first night. He'd been trying to catch Ginny to sit down and talk with her about what had happened. But she always found some excuse to be away from the party. Who could blame her? Most of the school thought she was simply an innocent bystander, but only a handful of people (especially those in Prof. Dumbledore's office at the time the truth came out) know how deeply involved she was, even if only an unwilling pawn of Tom Riddle.

Harry clenched his fist, but pulled it away as a stab of pain shot through the arm that hand was on. He glanced back at his bed with a sigh, and was about to try and get some sleep when a gathering storm rumbled in his stomach. Harry rolled his eyes. Now he wouldn't get any sleep! He'd left early during that night's revelries simply because he wanted to be alone, but missed out on getting anything to eat. He checked his watch, wondered if anyone would still be up at this hour, and shrugged. Maybe a snack would help him sleep.

He rose from his bed and quietly pulled in a robe. Careful not to wake anyone, he pulled the door open and exited the dormitory.

----

He was walking down the staircase then paused, noticing that the fireplace still had a healthy fire going. Glancing around yielded no students still around, but that didn't mean the last gone to bed mere minutes ago. On a far table, littered with odds and ends, were several plates with napkins on top. Upon inspection, he found several Pumpkin Pasties, one of which promptly went into his mouth. A second one followed in its place, but Harry stopped in mid-chew when he heard a moan coming from one of the large plush chairs near the fireplace.

Harry's face turned red. Merlin help him if he stumbled onto some older year students trying to have some 'quality time' together!

Swallowing what was already in his mouth and pocketing the last Pasty on the plate, he tiptoed back up the stairs.

An even louder moan came from the chair and Harry froze in mid-step. The moan came from a single person, and he looked back, frowning. He stayed for a moment longer, headed tilted, listening. Curiosity won out, and he walked back down, edging over to the chair.

Gritting his teeth at who (or whom) might be there, he peeked over – and sighed in relief.

There sat Ginny Weasley, curled up in a ball & moaning softly. She frowned in her sleep and Harry could see definite rapid eye movement, all indications of a troubled dream.

She was still dressed in school clothes, which made him wonder if she simply fell asleep as the party wound down. A large blanket lay in a pile at her feet and Harry picked it up and gently tucked it up to Ginny's neck.

A single finger brushed her skin and he started at how cold her skin, even so close to the fireplace. A quick flashback came to mind of how Ginny looked like lying in the Chamber of Secrets: the deathly pallor, the chilled skin, and the dead weight. His own nightmare came to mind, and a shudder ran down his back. His hand came up and hovered just over her shoulder, but then he thought better of it.

_Nah, let her sleep. She's been through a lot.  
_

Ginny's moaning and groaning subsided a bit from whatever dream (or nightmare) she was having. He reached over and gently brushed away some stray strands of hair that had fallen across her face, careful not to wake her up. Was it was his imagination, or did her lips twitch in the ghost of a smile? He gently laid his hand upon hers.

"It's okay, Ginny. Riddle won't bother you ever again. He's gone," he whispered.

He stood up slowly, looked down at her sleeping form one last time, and made for the stairs.

_"Not quite, Potter...not quite..."_ a cold, thin voice hissed behind him.

Harry's head snapped back in panic.

_No! It - It couldn't be!_

A chill ran down Harry's spine. Breathing hard, he slowly walked back to the chair and looked around but couldn't find anything. He looked back at Ginny and saw that she was still sleeping with that little smile on her face. Consequences be damned, he thought as he reached over to wake her up.

The instant his hand touched her arm, his scar burned as if a brand had been held onto his forehead. Grunting in pain, he staggered back and was nearly burned by the fire, but fell to his knees at the last moment. He fought nausea as he looked up, but what he saw made him gasp.

Something was behind Ginny's chair. As he gazed at the far wall, he noticed the shadows produced by the dancing flames of the fireplace. One shadow he knew to be the chair; another, shorter one to be himself; and a third...

...a third which was right next to the chair, but didn't seem to be produced by anything. Harry looked from the chair to the wall, but all he could see through a haze of pain was thin air.

No – not quite thin air. Right next to Ginny's chair, Harry could see something coalescing slowly. As his vision cleared, and he finally got a good look at what it was, a cold pit formed in his stomach.

Standing there, still somewhat transparent, was Tom Riddle.

Harry's stupefied expression made the Heir of Slytherin tip his head back and laugh. However, while it was Riddle's mouth that opened...it was Ginny that provided the voice. Harry had to shake his head at seeing the prone, sleeping Ginny laughing in concert to Riddle's movement. He struggled to get to his feet.

"Ah!" Riddle said – again, the voice coming from Ginny – as he snapped his fingers. Instantly, ropes appeared from nowhere and bound his arms behind him, his legs in back of him, and a gag wrapped around his mouth for good measure.

He sat there in mute shock as Riddle wiped his hands, as if for a job well done.

"Well, well, Potter," Riddle 'said'. "I'm glad we finally have some time to ourselves." Riddle noticed the look Harry gave to Ginny and back to Tom as he spoke. "Yes," he purred with a smile. "I'll get to that...all in due time."

Riddle walked up to Harry and stared down at him. Harry's scar no longer hurt, but he could still feel a slight tingle. Riddle appeared more amused now than angry. Harry tested the strength of the ropes, but found them tight enough to start feeling pins and needles in his arms and legs. He looked back up in frustration at the smirking face of Riddle with a single thought:

_How?_

"Yes, Potter," Riddle began, as if reading his mind. "How _did_ I survive, after your fortuitous escape from everything I had planned?" He turned away, an ugly look on his face. "I suppose it was my fault that I underestimated you - as well as your loyalty to Dumbledore." He turned and walked a few paces with his hands clasped behind him.

With his back still turned, Riddle said, "You're wondering how I can still be alive – even as a memory – after you destroyed the book that housed me?" He snorted and looked over his shoulder at Harry. "You never listened to what I said, did you?" He waved a careless hand in Ginny's direction. "I told you: as this foolish girl poured her heart and soul out to me, I began to pour some of _me_ into _her_." Riddle turned and looked Harry in the eye with a smirk.

"If Lord Voldemort could preserve his memory into a simple diary, don't you think it would be just as easy to copy a memory into the mind of a child?"

Harry shook his head in disbelief.

Tom brought up his hands up and clenched them slowly. "I admit I'm not as strong as I once was. But, better the shadow of a memory, than no memory at all, eh, Potter?" Riddle brought both fists down to his side.

"It took time - and the process wasn't quite complete when I realized what you were doing. But it was enough, and yet -" He walked over to Ginny's prone form and passed a hand right through her. "I still can't handle physical matter, nor can I speak with my own voice." He glared at Harry, who could see a slight red tinge in his eyes.

Riddle then chuckled humorlessly. "But I bid my time. As before, I was able to feed on all of Ginny Weasley's fears and emotions, much easier this time since I was right at the source. It did help that she still agonized over what might have been." Riddle crossed his arms and gazed longingly at Ginny's sleeping form. "Eventually, I was able to exert control of her while she slept.

"She's reliving the same nightmare, you know. Mostly about you, although I sometimes change the 'cast' of that delightful dream," Riddle said in a tone almost like discussing the weather. Harry frowned at Ginny's sleeping form, a questioning look in his eyes.

"Looks can be deceiving, Potter," Riddle said quietly. He leaned over and ran an ethereal hand down Ginny's cheek. "She's only like this since I now control her conscious body." He stood and left his hand hovering right over her head.

"But unconsciously?" Riddle casually asked. His hand stood there for a second, and then he clenched it furiously.

Ginny's entire body arched back, and her mouth opened up in a silent scream. Her eyes opened and they started to dart her and there, as if trying to flee from something. Breathing hard, she shook her head back and forth while her arms came up to try and ward something away. Although silent, she kept mouthing the same word over and over:

_No, no, no, no!!_

Harry tugged impotently at the ropes as she started to cry hysterically. The skin on his wrists was rubbed raw and the ropes were slick with his blood. Riddle looked on in wicked amusement at Harry's reaction.

As quickly as it came, Ginny collapsed back on to the seat.

"That's what she goes through all the time, Potter. Sometimes, she dreams of her parents...or her brothers...or you," Riddle said. "And whomever she dreams of always dies at the hands of the basilisk."

He crossed his arms and stood there triumphantly.

"Now we come to the end, Potter. Just as Ginny allowed me to leave diary's pages, so also she'll give me the means to leave this miserable school's confines and start my new mission." His expression softened a bit and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Now that I think upon it, I believe I have _you_ to thank for giving me my new undertaking in life," he said with a dry chuckle. "Yes, you did say you met the real me, didn't you? How did you describe me again? 'A wreak', 'barely alive' and 'in hiding'," he said the last in a cold whisper, and Harry shivered at something in Riddle's eyes.  
  
Unexpectedly, Tom knelt down so that he was eye to eye with Harry. "When I was first awakened," he began, "I wanted nothing more than to kill Mudbloods. Then, when I learned about you, I wanted nothing more than to meet you and find out you survived Lord Voldemort's attack. Now that I know his fate, I know what I have to do - what I should have done when I first got wind of it."

Riddle's eyes lost a little of their focus, and he tilted his head as if trying to listen to something far in the distance. "I can feel him, you know. He's barely hanging on by sheer force of will alone, cheating death by jumping into the bodies of snakes when he can. Father has lost so much - " He stopped, catching Harry's confused look.

"Yes, I did say 'Father', didn't I? And why shouldn't I, since I am – in a manner of speaking – his progeny?" Tom stood up and with his eyes fixed on Harry's he began to walk backwards to where Ginny lay.

"After all, who better to find and help Lord Voldemort, the greatest sorcerer in the world..."

He stepped right into Ginny's body...and _merged_ with it.

"...than the daughter of Voldemort," Ginny finished, her eyes fluttering open.

Harry nearly toppled over in panic, but the ropes held him fast.

Ginny stood up and flexed her hands and arms, as if trying on a new set of clothes.

No, thought Harry, not Ginny, _never_ Ginny. Her every move, her every inflection, had nothing of the girl he knew. Everything in her manner _screamed_ Tom Riddle.

"This...will take some getting used to," mumured 'Ginny' thoughtfully as her hands slowly ran up and down her body. "Now then, where were we?" she purred. "Ah, yes!" She took her wand out and pointed it directly between Harry's eyes.

"This will hurt me more than it'll hurt you, Harry," she said in a tone belying the coldness of her words. She then put a finger to her chin. "Let me rephrase that: this will hurt Ginny more than it will hurt you."

Harry could only stare as the wand came to within a few inches of him. He looked up and tried to see if anything of Ginny was there, but all he could see was a wicked glee in those cold eyes. He shut his eyes.

"I condemn you, Harry Potter..." Ginny began.

Harry tensed.

"...to live!"

Harry started in confusion at the words, but didn't open his eyes. He was about to when he felt cold skin on his cheek and flinched when he realized that Ginny had leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"To live, Harry," she whispered sepulchrally, her breath hot on his skin. "So, that your thirst to find this girl..will consume you." She started to pull back but stopped at the last moment as she placed a cold, lingering kiss on his cheek. Harry fought a choking surge of bile that threatened to spill with whatever was left of what he ate. His scar pulsed worse than ever.

Ginny pulled away and took one last look at him.

"Goodbye."

With that, she pulled her cloak tightly around her neck and left through the portrait hole.

Harry's head sagged forward in fatigue, feebly trying to pull at the ropes, not caring at the stinging pain from the chafing. He crumpled forward in a surprised heap when the ropes and gag disappeared. He groaned and tried to pull himself up but slipped from his blood-caked hands. His breath coming in gasps, Harry dragged himself to the nearest window and pulled it open. The moon was full tonight. He tried to catch some glimpse of where Ginny had gone and nearly missed her, but then caught sight of a small form walking toward the Forbidden Forest.

"Ginny!" he gasped.

Whether she had somehow heard him or felt his eyes on her, Ginny turned to look up at the window. She brought her palm up and blew him a kiss. As she turned, the forest swallowed her up.

Harry sagged against the window and started to slide down it in despair.

"Ginny...Ginny," he whimpered

But Ginny was gone.

**-FIN-**


End file.
